Ramblings of Revelations
by Quibblette
Summary: Sam finally realizes that Harrison is the one she wants to be with. "Well, I’m typing what has got to be the fifteenth millionth e-mail to you... And I’m shaking. Because you know what, Harrison? Love should come with a manual."


From: "Sam McPherson"

To: "Harrison John"

Subject: …

Date: Wed, 17 Nov 21:19:30 1000

* * *

Harrison.

Well, here I am writing you an email…

But where to begin?

How bout I try your trick, ey? Let's set the scene…

I'm on my bed, and outside it's dark and the stars are twinkling. And Mike's outside in the yard doing…well, something.

Remember that time we just lay out in my backyard as kids and watched the stars? And you were convinced that Uranus was actually a constellation shaped like someone's backside? Good times…

But yes. The scene.

Brooke is sitting on the end of my bed looking at me smugly. Because she knows she was right and I was wrong. And as for me? Well, I'm sprawled on top of a pile of pillows and typing what has got to be the fifteenth millionth e-mail to you.

And I'm shaking.

Because you know what, Harrison?

Love should come with a manual.

No wait. It should come with a bloody giant sign and red bolded letters saying "WARNING: Very likely to fuck up life as you know it".

Yep, love needs to come in a package with warning labels and instructions. Lots and lots of instructions. And case scenarios. And you know what? Maybe a packet of Prozac too.

Because you know how there's always those happy stories? In the movies where love is this big Happy Happy Simple Tranquil Oh-My-God-This-Just-Feels-So-Right kinda thing?

Well, I've just figured out they were lying.

No shit Sherlock you're thinking.

See, because there is nothing simple or clear about thinking you know everything there is to know about a guy and then realizing that there is some major huge fact they are hiding from you. And then being forced to pick between life as you know it and a life you're not quite sure you want.

Bear with me, this does have a point. And I need you to read it all.

Because I mean, you were like a brother for god's sakes! You're the guy who's been my best friend since forever. You've helped me with crushes and dressed up in silly costumes with me. And slept over my house. And helped me _bake_.

And yet here you were standing there telling me you really did love me. And that I had to choose right then and there who I wanted to be with. And I was scared okay? I'm sorry but I was. Because you mean the world to me, Harrison, and relationships are so screwed up and what if I lost you? And what if we broke up or what if you had it wrong? What if you didn't really want me and you just wanted to be my friend again and then there'd be this big awkwardness between us.

But it seems I managed to lose you anyway, didn't I?

Because you're not talking to me and I think it's breaking my heart as much as a break-up would've.

Because you've always been there when I needed to talk. Or to rant. Or even just _want_ to talk. To have fun.

You've always been there.

But the break-up issue wasn't the only problem. Because I have to admit I've never really thought of you in a romantic context before. Thought you were good looking, yes. Thought of you when girls complained that there were no decent guys left in Kennedy High, yes.

But to think of you as a guy. For me? No…

And then there's George. Who's just…George. My _boyfriend_. I know he loves me. I know he wants me in a romantic relationship and I know that I'd live if we broke up. Because that's it. It'd just be the end of a relationship, not a friendship.

But then there was always you.

And after you told me you loved me…

I'd kiss George and wonder what it'd feel like if it was your lips against mine.

He'd crack a joke and I'd think to myself that you're just so much funnier than that.

And even when he smiled. I'd remember that I've always thought your smile was the best.

Or he'd ask me what my favourite memory was, growing up. And I know that you'd already know. Because you were there. And you were part of it. And you part of why it was so special to begin with. Like you've been with pretty much any great memory in my life. _Any_ memory in my life.

Do you know what my favourite memory is, Harrison?

We were eight, and I was getting teased for some reason or other. (Strange start to a favourite memory, I know). But anyway, despite everyone joining in, you just got right up from whatever you were doing, walked across the room and gave me this great big hug. And you told me that they were all idiots because I was a great person and it was their problem if they couldn't see that. And then you promised me that you'd always be there for me.

And I can't describe the feeling I got then. It was like this great comfort had washed over me and I was so happy because I knew I'd finally found someone special. Someone who'd never hurt me and who'd always have my back.

And I think it's about time I had yours.

So I'll be honest to you, Harrison. The point of this entire ridiculously over-sized e-mail is to tell you one thing.

I love you.

I'm head over heels in love with you.

And not _despite_ the fact that you're my best friend. No, surprisingly enough _because_ of it. Because you've known me all my life and I've never been able to imagine ever being happy here without you.

And now…now, I can't imagine being happy without being _with_ you either.

So I'm sorry, Harrison. For being stupid and not seeing it sooner. And I hope this explains a little. And I hope it's somehow even managed to convince you to forgive me. And maybe want me again.

Because I don't know what else I can say apart from this.

I love you, Harrison John. This much I know is true.

Sam


End file.
